I think I signed my death warrant by opting to write this in first person. Murp. oAo SO DIFFICULT. If it wasn't obvious, this story is about to take a giant turn. This is why Witty shouldn't be allowed to write at three a.m. With a cup of mocha for company. Guys, I'm totes open for suggestions. {/shot} No, seriously, I'll take them into consideration and probably implement them.
DreamOrNightmare: Oh, you're good. C: Yeah, I hate her. I made the mistake of being a good person in the game and allowed her to live. I love how they gave me an OPTION to kill EVERYONE, EXCEPT the character I cared about the most. Thanks so much for reading!
MusicFiend666: NOPES. You're quite right, quite right. I realize how terrible a decision this was to write in first person. And since I don't enjoy those oh-let's-switch-POV-things, this could get disastrous pretty fast. Thought I'd apologize ahead of time.
Mio: D'aawww. I know what you mean. I have to listen to music while writing this. Then a happy fluffy song comes on while I'm attempting to type the first half of this chapter and I frown. Ugh, Lamb. I have something special in store for her. C:
deganky: Yee! Thanks so much! But with the way my brain is working, the next few chapters can easily swirl down the toilet. Poor planning decisions and too much improvising. But thanks so much for the encouragement. {/happyface}
Experiment G1T8L1: This is slightly based off a dream. A very horrifying, traumatizing dream. Although, I woke up and decided to write a story about it. YEE. Anyways! Thanks for reading! And reviewing!
o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o
Screaming, kicking, wailing, and crying only made the end worse as it came. "For the good of the family." Those words lingered in my head long after the owner of them had put me in an enclosed observation room. As hazy as I was, most of the details here will always remain indescribable. Pain came from all angles, exploding against the curves of my form, forcing my body to arch in all formations. Needles, hundreds—no—thousands sank into my skin, releasing whatever concoction Lamb had put in there. Though, my mind did not register the process until later, the toxins were gradually slithering up to my brain. Lamb's voice echoed in my ears, hers alone; speaking to me in a soft, yet commanding, voice.
My mother.
How long would it last?
My shrieking that would prove fruitless against the overbearing machinery drilling into my vital organs, rose to a glass breaking pitch. An invisible vacuum commenced its task of sucking from me whatever sanity I had retained upon my arrival in Rapture. Writhing hysterically against my restraints, my vision flooded over with grainy sand as I braced myself by scraping my nails against the surface under me, creating a cacophonous noise. Tides and tides of acid washed over my body, provoking more spastic squirming. My consciousness fought for control several times. And yet, each time, I awoke to a new and rare pain. What was it, the third time? Fourth time? A time bomb exploded in my cranium, splattering my brain against walls of my head. My heart slammed violently against my ribcage, begging to burst free. The yelling ceased, as did the incessant thrashing.
A birthday? Did I ever have one of those things? Irrelevant.
How many minutes... hours...days had it been? Languidly, my bottomless pit eyes blinked slowly. A blanket of numbness ran over my body, and suddenly my fingers couldn't move anymore. Actually, none of me would move anymore. I was suddenly very aware of what people meant when they said they were entombed in their own bodies. This was everything I had worked for. Pain was not an issue if the outcome would ensure the safety of what Mother worked so hard to achieve. Iron grips clasped around my bruised forearms and hauled me to my feet. I went slack against their hold, feeling the wet crimson slide down my arms and legs. An electric surge jolted along my veins. Legs limply dragging across the floor, I made no effort to try and move them. Clouded faces traversed about the room. Blankly, I watched—not the least bit intrigued by their purpose or presence. How did I end up here? Did I ever have a life before this? These dismal surroundings were home. The only home I'd ever known. And one day, they would ultimately be restored to their former glory. Time was of the essence. Only the glow at the end of the long corridor, and a few dim florescent bulbs served to illuminate the concrete path.
A light voice crooned gently in my ear, comforting me. That was the only voice I would ever heed the call of for the rest of my life. Catching a glimpse of a reflective surface, I noticed the haunting eyes staring back at me. Gently, a hand laid itself on my shoulder, guiding me to my back. As always, I complied, feeling the cool table against my back.
I was the future of Rapture. The crucial piece of the puzzle.
A heavy device was latched to my head with a subtle click. Any form of movement would have been impossible. And, just like that, with a simple snap of a finger, it began all over again. This time, all the agony stemmed from the needles pushing into my brain. Black and blue lines streaked across my vision, leaving behind a large smear of charcoal. Although this time, not a single utterance came from my person. The stillness of the room would have been ashamed at how quiet I was being. Eyes blank and aimed at the ceiling, I came to understand that a certain numbness had blanketed itself over my previously shivering body. My eyes remained open, welcoming the pain like an old, long-awaited friend.
I was a mess... No. I was reborn.
Another black out. This time was much more obvious though. I dreamt about a foreign place with an odd square contraption that very much resembled a screen. Other than that, the room was small and quite plain in style, save for the copious amounts of paper on a desk in the corner.
The next time my eyes opened, I was back in my uniform. It had become something of a second skin to me; I hardly noticed it. Sitting up, I peered out from the circular porthole, my back leaving the softness of the bed behind me. Mother? How long had she been sitting there? What had happened during my absence? I would not disappoint Mother as the others before me had.
"What is your name?" My name? Mother had a tendency to ask odd questions. Listless eyes took comfort in Mother's azure ones, returning my cool gaze. Upon my prolonged silence, Mother's smile spread across her pale face, "Good. Now sleep." Sand bunched up in my eyes, drowsiness wrapping itself around me. Leaning back against the pillow, I obeyed.
o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o
'She is our Savlvation' scrawled in dripping, dirty sanguine on the murky walls of our beloved Rapture glowed in luminescent light, surrounded by melting, drooping candles on the verge of their demise. Water dripped at a steady rate from who-knows-where… possibly from one of the unchecked leaks scattered around the hidden area. Any sound or tiny noise would reverberate through the walls and irritate any creature that happened to saunter by. Though, this all went unnoticed by the unmoving figure on the floor, his body half consumed by a dark puddle of water. His face was permanently stuck in one of absolute horror. That didn't quite matter to the long, metal, needle embedded deeply into the man's back. Yes, that wrist-mounted needle was connected to something. At first glance it would appear to be a form-fitting diving suit built from scavenged objects, but when you do something stupid, you find that it's a weapon of mass destruction. The glowing red light from the porthole on the sphere's helmet shined down on the, very much dead, victim on the floor as the needle was forcefully yanked out. What had his name been? Darren Johnston? Didn't matter.
Metal boots clunked and splashed against the hard terrain. An earpiece inside of the Big Sister's helmet buzzed to life. "Very good." Mother's voice purred into my ears, "No doubt he was carrying on works behind our backs. You may now attend to your other business." No voice returned a reply, there was no need to, or I found lack in a reason to at least. Not even the enormous needle or rivet gun attached to my arms weighed me down anymore. As a matter-of-fact, admitted with pride, I happened to be considered one of the most agile and acrobatic of the Big Sister line, but, only with my suit as assistance . The small oxygen tank on my back allowed me to breath acceptably well under water whenever a leak required some patching, which seemed to be the case right now. The dripping mentioned before hadn't stopped and was really getting annoying.
Before too long had passed, an agonized voice boomed through the hallways, identified as a Big Daddy. Feeling a touch displeased, I leapt upwards with incredible distance, landing on an unstable rafter. The world around me blurred as I sprinted in the general direction of the noise. With unmatched speed and power, my body sprang from the balcony, ducking under the long hallway, propelling like an insistent torpedo through thick water. I knew my target before I even saw it; five Splicers. Rivet gun pointed, two bullets flew and came in contact with their destinations perfectly. The other three turned away from the Little Sister they had surrounded. One disappeared into the air, deeming it a Houdini Splicer. The Spider Splicer made a leap for me, its hook hands, literally, scraping the side of my helmet. I screeched, loudly and angrily, as my head inside the helmet felt the hard impact. Feeling a surge of ADAM shoot through my body, an large orange flame burgeoned on my hands, shooting forward, engulfing the Splicer in a furious fire.
Another deranged-sounding scream released itself from my throat as four bullets slammed against my shoulder blade. Three pierced through the metal and hit flesh. Though they didn't completely break the flesh, a red-purple-green, unsightly bruise would occupy my left shoulder down to the mid-back. A prompt use of Telekinesis silenced the gunshots.
"You won't get away from me, you bitch!" The Houdini shrieked, reappearing within a thirty foot radius from me. My rivet gun went up and a nice round bullet planted itself into the Splicer's forehead. Almost threateningly, I snapped my head to the Little Sister, who gasped and inched away, even with the knowledge that I was a Big Sister. Purposefully, I advanced, harshly grabbing the small child be the forearm.
"Ow no! Please don't hurt me!"Her purple dress fluttered as she was dragged to a conveniently placed vent. Roughly, my gloved hands picked up the Little Sister and forcefully pushed her into the hole, just big enough for the child. "Thank you…" A muffled voice called out quietly, hesitantly from the vent, confused by the older girl's actions. Unlike many other Big sisters, I didn't have a basket on my back just large enough to snuggly fit a little sister within its confines. They also had little ribbons tied neatly to them and absurd drawings on their bodies. It's not that I harbored a certain ire for the small things, but had no time to watch over one unless absolutely necessary.
"I do not enjoy this." I mumbled quietly to myself inside my headgear, to no one in particular. When you have no one to talk to, it's damn near impossible to not start conversing merrily with yourself. Growling lowly, the voice escaped the helmet in a menacing undertone. I began sauntering in a sluggish fashion down the hallway.. A rustling noise from under my foot stole my attention as I aimed my vision downwards. A poster about the surface. Mother never brought up the surface, and often times she discouraged any possible discussion on that topic.
No matter, this was my life. It always had been. And always would be.
o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o
Thanks for reading! I OWN NOTHING, except poorbbyMac.
She gave me no other choice, she was being derpy.